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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26833729">Longs for Sun and Lays in the Dark</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardyGal/pseuds/HardyGal'>HardyGal</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>HardyGal Attempts Whumptober (2020) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 4, Persona Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(just once), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Basically Izanami projects HARD onto a high schooler whose Persona is named after her husband, Captivity, Failed escape, Implied Grief/Mourning, Implied Longing, Misplaced Anger, Misplaced revenge, Narukami Yu Whump, Non-Consensual Kissing, Other, Past Relationship(s), Persona 4 Protagonist Whump, Psychological Horror, Seta Souji Whump, Torture, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, Yu has no idea what’s happening he just knows that he is suffering, and takes all her issues out on him, references to Japanese mythology &amp; folklore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:55:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,147</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26833729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardyGal/pseuds/HardyGal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fight until he collapsed, be revitalized, heal himself, repeat. Yu did not know how long he had been forced through this torturous routine, nor why the unknown, eldritch being looming hidden in the surrounding fog insisted on putting him through it.</p><p>“So much like him,” she kept saying, as if that meant anything to him...</p><p>(Potential prequel to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26744668"> Please Don’t Take Me at This Stage</a>)</p><p>—</p><p>Whumptober 2020 Day 5: <b>Where Do You Think You’re Going? | Failed Escape<b></b></b></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Izanagi (Persona 4)/Izanami (Persona 4), One-sided Izanami (Persona 4)/Narukami Yu, One-sided Izanami (Persona 4)/Persona 4 Protagonist, One-sided Izanami (Persona 4)/Seta Souji</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>HardyGal Attempts Whumptober (2020) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946908</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Longs for Sun and Lays in the Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He did not know how long he had been here. It honestly felt like days - days of fighting, of getting hurt, of running out of energy, of being healed and revitalized so he could do it all again. Did that mean that everyone was looking for him by now…?</p><p>No. Time was meaningless here. <em> She </em> had made that clear.</p><p>Whether he was stuck in some kind of bubble outside of time or being forced to live out an eternity within an hour or two or three, it did not matter. He would probably die long before anyone even thought to wonder where he was. That is, if <em> she </em> had any intention of letting him die.</p><p>Shadows upon Shadows would attack him from the fog, brought into existence by <em> her </em> will. He would fight until he finally collapsed, drained and in agony. It had happened more times than he could count now. He should have been dead a thousand times over. But <em> she </em> would not allow that.</p><p>He never saw her, but he felt her - he felt her gaze on him at all times while he fought, he felt her voice echo through his very bones when she spoke. He felt her <em> presence </em>, always looming above him in the fog, like some kind of ancient god, always just out of sight.</p><p>And when he was left exhausted by the battles she inflicted on him, he felt her arms wrap around him from behind - a smaller form, but one no less brimming with power, and one he was certain she only adopted to torment him more intimately.</p><p>She would embrace him, <strike>like a lover</strike> like a mother comforting her child, bringing something warm and enticing to his lips. ‘Soul food,’ some tired memory at the back of his mind supplied. Utterly spent, far too weak to fight back, he would have no choice but to consume it, and as soon as he felt his exhaustion ebb away, her presence would loom over him once more.</p><p>
  <em>“Heal yourself, child of man.” </em>
</p><p>If he refused, she would hurt him. She would hurt him without ever tipping him over that brink of death he so precariously teetered on. She would hurt him until he could take no more and he finally called upon one of his Personas with an outstretched hand and trembling voice. He would heal himself, and the cycle would begin again.</p><p>No. She had no intention of letting him die. And that was just as terrifying a notion as her intending to kill him. Perhaps even moreso.</p><p>Over and over again he would be forced to fight for his life, over and over again he would nearly lose it, and over and over again she would give it back to him. It was with a sinking feeling of dread and humiliation that he quickly realized that he was <em> not </em> fighting for his life, no, because <em> that </em> implied that he had any control over what happened to him here. No, he was fighting purely because that’s what she desired - <em> his life </em> had become her plaything to do with as she pleased.</p><p>It pleased her to see him fight until he could fight no more. It pleased her to “grant” him a chance to do it all again. Sometimes it even pleased her to let him rest, just for a little while, her deathly cold arms wrapped around him in a fondling embrace while he lay against her shoulder, weariness robbing him of any ability to push her away…</p><p>It pleased her to talk, endlessly, mournfully, dolefully, of how much he reminded her of “him.” His features, his mannerisms, his spirit, his drive - so much, it seemed, reminded her of “him.” Whoever the hell “him” was...</p><p>He did try to run. Just once, after being forced to heal himself for a time that could not be numbered, he turned and ran through the fog.</p><p>She <em> screamed </em>, a horrifying sound that seemed to set the fog ablaze with her rage. It shook him to his core and probably would have left him paralyzed if he had not been so intent on escape. Shadows emerged from the fog, grabbing at him, clawing at him, snapping at him, and still he ran, keeping his Personas hidden away, determined not to be trapped by a fight.</p><p>Then, he was intercepted. He called on Izanagi, the name coming out ragged and frantic, only for his Persona to immediately be set upon by the Shadows. Izanagi hit the ground, and so did he.</p><p><em>“You </em> would <em> run from me.” </em></p><p>Her voice vibrated through his body, dominant and <em> furious </em>.</p><p>“Dammit!” His own voice was nothing in comparison. “Let me <em> go </em>!”</p><p>
  <em>“Suffer.” </em>
</p><p>He did.</p><p>The Shadows ravaged his Persona, tearing into it with teeth and claws and hands. His screams, human, weak, died in the smothering fog, heard only by the looming presence actively looking to <em> make </em> him scream.</p><p>When he could no longer scream, when Izanagi was nothing more than a ruined mess of static and silver, the Shadows withdrew. His body trembled. He could taste blood in the back of his throat.</p><p>
  <em>“Why must you always run?” </em>
</p><p>She approached him, a silhouetted figure obscured by the fog. He opened his mouth to respond, maybe to ask just what else she expected him to do, maybe to demand again that she let him go, <strike>maybe to beg</strike> but all that came out was a cough and a spray of blood. He felt her arms around him again, felt her pull him into her lap, felt her icy fingers play wistfully through his hair.</p><p>
  <em>“We were meant to share eternity together.” </em>
</p><p>It had been a long time since he had cried, especially for himself. Many years had passed between now and his parents telling a lonely little boy that they knew he was sad, but he had to act like a big boy. Whatever lesson he had internalized from that moment on, however, was starting to fall apart.</p><p>“S- Stop…” he whispered, voice quivering dangerously.</p><p>
  <em>“You bear his likeness in many ways...” </em>
</p><p>Cold lips met his own. Tears sprang to his eyes, and something small and pitiful emitted muffled from his throat.</p><p>The kiss was deep and mournful, filled with centuries of meaning he could not even hope to understand, nor did he want to. He <em> wanted </em> to push her away, he <em> wanted </em> to scream, but he could do neither. He could only lay in her arms, captive to whatever desire she had chosen to project onto him.</p><p>When she finally withdrew, slow and forlorn, he stared sightlessly into the foggy expanse above. Tears traced their way down his face, only to be caught by a cold, caressing hand.</p><p><em>‘Why…?’ </em> he wondered hazily. <em> ‘Who is she…? What does she want from me…?’ </em></p><p>
  <em>“Let me imagine our eternity through you.” </em>
</p><p>He passed out then, but only because she allowed him to.</p>
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